


the "lying" detective

by poseidon



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Suspension Of Disbelief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:07:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poseidon/pseuds/poseidon
Summary: “A detective,” Baze repeats. “You are a detective.”Chirrut nods. He gives Baze a look. “What, you think you need to see to be a detective?”“Is – is that a trick question?” Baze asks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Currently un-beta'd

The apartment is much too small for his tastes, but Baze supposes it could've been much worse. At least there's a decent kitchen - maybe he could finally start on that "cooking as a hobby" plan he'd always thought about. That is, if he ever decides to go out and buy anything to start with.

The refrigerator is bare, as are the cupboards, the shelves, the walls, the rooms – everything, really. Besides the mattress, he has literally nothing in this new apartment. Nothing seems to have changed from before his deployment. Then again, he didn’t have an apartment back then, so this would still be a step up.

Baze starts scrolling through his phone to look for some nearby restaurants and is just about to call one when there’s a knock on his door. He opens it with little consideration and there, standing before him, is a grinning man. Eyes a glossy blue and a tight grip on his cane, he says, “Well, well. You must be my new neighbor. I heard you shuffling about in here earlier.”

“Um, yes, I just moved in,” Baze says. “Baze Malbus.”

“Chirrut Îmwe. Very nice to meet you, Baze,” Chirrut extends his hand to the door and Baze guides it over and gives it a firm shake.

“Likewise,” Baze says in a neutral tone. “Is there anything you need?”

“No, I just came by to see who you were,” Chirrut says. He taps his cane forward and starts walking inside before Baze can say otherwise. “Have you decorated yet? I only really heard you bring up your mattress so I assume everything else is empty. A friend of mine recommended to me this store nearby that sells some good furniture. I can’t say anything about what it looks like – for obvious reasons – but the material is lovely.”

He heads toward the kitchen and Baze follows, trying to find a good time to interject and ask about whatever the fuck this guy is doing in his new house.

Chirrut manages to find the fridge and starts poking his hand inside. “Looks like this is empty too – you should get something to eat. Moving can take a lot out of you.”

“I know,” Baze says. He lets out a sigh. “Listen –”

“You probably don’t know any of the good restaurants around here,” Chirrut continues. “I’ll order something for us today and you can pay me back some other time.”

“I appreciate that, but –”

“You’re not allergic to anything, are you? I mean, I don’t think there are any allergens in this but then again, you never know, and it’s better to be –”

Baze moves forward and grabs Chirrut’s shoulders. He tightens under his hands and Baze relaxes his grip. “Listen,” he says, voice steady, “I appreciate everything you’re trying to do, but I’d prefer to spend some time alone right now. Okay?”

Chirrut turns to him and then, unexpectedly, smiles. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll come back some other time then.” He grabs his cane and makes his way to the door. “But if you want to know the name of that furniture store, you let me know.”

“I will, I will,” Baze says, more or less ushering Chirrut out the door. He closes it right behind him and lets out a heavy breath.

 _Well,_ he thinks, _I doubt that’ll be the last I see of him._

He spends the rest of the day unpacking the few belongings he’d stuffed in his backpack and is practically starving by late evening. He starts to, once again, look up nearby restaurants when, once again, there’s a knock on his door.

Baze goes to open it, expecting another eccentric neighbor bursting in uninvited, but there’s only a lone bag of takeout right outside his door. He looks around before taking the bag inside. There’s a note attached to the box, and it takes Baze a moment to realize what it is – the name of the furniture store.

He sits on the mattress while he eats and he has to admit, Chirrut knows how to pick good food.

* * *

Surprisingly, it takes Chirrut an entire week before he comes by to see Baze again. In that time, Baze has managed to buy a couch and a table. He’d wanted to get more things but, as he quickly learned, he has surprisingly particular tastes when it comes to furniture.

He’s just opened up a box of pizza when he hears someone shout from outside in the hallway. “Baze! Are you in there? I can’t knock so open the door!”

Baze lets out a sigh and heads over. Chirrut smiles at him and holds out a plate. “There you are! I heard you bringing in your new furniture over and I wanted to check it out. Also, I brought this,” he gestures to the plate in his hands. “Homemade cookies.”

Baze takes the plate and examines it carefully. “Did you make these?”

Chirrut laughs. “Are you kidding me? I’m a terrible baker – I usually end up eating more of the batter than actually using it. No, these are made by a friend of mine.”

“I see,” Baze says. “Thanks.” He steps aside and lets Chirrut wander around and make his way to the new couch. He plops down and grins.

“Wow, these are much cushier than the ones I have,” he says. “Would you mind trading?”

“I actually would mind, seeing as how I bought these just yesterday,” Baze retorts.

“That is an excellent point,” Chirrut laughs again. He leans back and looks up at the ceiling. “Aren’t you going to offer me some pizza?”

“I suppose I should.” Baze gets up and heads to the kitchen.

“I smelled your pizza all the way from my apartment, you know,” Chirrut says. “I know it’s a large veggie lover’s pizza from the shop across the street.”

“You got that from the smell or from the fact that the delivery boy read out my order before handing it to me?” Baze asks.

“You are incredibly perceptive, Baze.”

“I try my best,” Baze replies. He puts the place into Chirrut’s arms and sits back across from him, watching him dig into the slice. “I’m also assuming you planned out your visit so you could get some free pizza?”

Chirrut grins. “You do owe me for that takeout I ordered for you a couple of days ago.”

“Thank you for that,” Baze says. “It was… it was very good food.”

“I have excellent taste,” Chirrut says, before breaking into laughter. “Get it? We’re talking about food and I said I have good taste?”

Baze resists the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s not a very good joke.”

“You sound like all my other friends,” Chirrut huffs. “They don’t laugh at my jokes either.”

“Maybe if you had better jokes, people would laugh at them.”

“Hey!” Chirrut points in his directions. “You can’t insult my jokes – we just met!”

“You’ve barged into my apartment uninvited and then ordered me food,” Baze points out. “I think I’ve earned the right to insult your jokes.”

Chirrut thinks about it for a moment. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense.”

Baze stifles his chuckle and starts to eat.

They’re both two slices in when Chirrut asks, “So what do you do for a living? Do you have a job or something?”

“I was in the Marines,” Baze replies. He clears his throat. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a detective,” Chirrut says casually. He grabs another slice and takes a sizeable bite.

“A detective,” Baze repeats. “ _You_ are a _detective_.”

Chirrut nods. He gives Baze a look. “What, you think you need to see to be a detective?”

“Is – is that a trick question?” Baze asks.

Chirrut gives him a smirk and only when he’s left does Baze realize there was no real answer to his question.

* * *

Chirrut comes by a couple of more times throughout the weeks, while Baze is still in the process of getting himself acclimated to his new home, and eventually, it becomes just another part of his daily routine.

“You know,” Chirrut says one day, in between bites of lo mein from a local Chinese place, “I like takeout as much as the next person, but this just seems a bit excessive, don’t you think?”

“You’re the one who’s coming here consistently for free food so I don’t think you’re allowed to complain,” Baze retorts and Chirrut lets out a hearty laugh.

It takes a couple of days for Baze to cultivate the inclination to go to the gym, and a couple of more for him to actually do it. He leaves his apartment early one morning, only to find one young lady leaving Chirrut’s apartment and Chirrut waving after her.

“Who’s that?” Baze asks, hoisting his gym bag over his shoulder.

“Good morning to you too, Baze,” Chirrut hums. “That’s Jyn – she’s a friend of mine. And a client.”

“A client of your detective agency?” Baze asks.

“I can hear in your tone that you still don’t believe me,” Chirrut says. “But I’ll prove it to you someday.” He looks in his direction and raises a brow. “What are you doing up so early, anyway?”

“Going to the gym,” Baze replies.

“Ah,” Chirrut nods. “You do sound very strong and muscular.” He pauses a moment and holds out his hand. “Might I get a ticket to the gun show?”

Baze rolls his eyes and lets out an audible groan so Chirrut knows how terrible the joke was, flexing his biceps and guiding Chirrut’s hand over so he could feel it.

Chirrut grins and rubs the muscle gently. “Oh yes, this is very nice.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Baze replies. He pulls back after a moment, not wanting to stay out too late, and feels Chirrut’s fingers slide off his skin, slow and reluctant.

“Not to everyone,” he says, smiling. “I’ll see you later, Baze.” He heads back into his apartment and closes the door behind him.

* * *

He’s on his way back from the gym when he nearly runs into someone – young, handsome – leaving Chirrut’s apartment. He takes a look at Baze and his eyes sparkle.

“Ah, so you must be Baze Malbus,” he says. He holds out his hand. “Cassian Andor.”

Baze nods and takes his hand. “How did you know who I was?”

Cassian grins. “Chirrut’s been talking about you. It’s kind of cute, actually.” His phone buzzes and he sighs. “I wish I could talk to you more but unfortunately, crime waits for no man. I hope to see you again, Baze.” He leaves before Baze can say anything further, and Baze still has more questions than answers about his new neighbor.

“Is Cassian Andor a police officer?” Baze asks, during their usual dinner.

“Ah, so you’ve met him!” Chirrut says. “Yes, he is a cop – once again, a friend and a client.”

“So, you’re still sticking to your story that you’re a detective, I see,” Baze hums.

“I _am_ a detective,” Chirrut says, indignant. He crosses his arms. “In fact, I’ll prove it to you by bringing you along on the next case I get.”

“Okay, okay,” Baze replies, not thinking much of it.

* * *

He wishes he had thought more of it, because now he’s stuck on a stakeout with Chirrut beside him, looking out for a suspicious person suspected of being involved in a gang.

“Normally I’d be doing this with my friend Bodhi,” Chirrut says, “but I’m sure he’s relieved to not have to stay up so late to be my eyes.”

“I’m sure he’d understand why he’s doing this more than I do,” Baze grumbles in response. His eyes are glued to the streets. “Why are we even here, anyway? How do we know he’s in the building?”

“I told you, we’re here because –”

“Hang on,” Baze cuts him off, “I see someone. He just left the building, walking away from us on the right side of the street.”

“Is he wearing white Nikes?” Chirrut asks.

“Yes, but –” But Chirrut is already out of the car and running over to the mystery man.

“Oh my god,” Baze mumbles under his breath. He checks to make sure his gun is still in his holster before running after them. They’re pretty far ahead – Chirrut is a surprisingly fast runner – and they’ve already turned the corner when Baze finally catches up.

It’s a dead end – Chirrut is backed up against the wall and the suspect has a gun in his hand.

Baze doesn’t think. He just shoots.

The next thing he knows, the suspect is on the floor and Chirrut is on the phone with Cassian.

“That was a terribly stupid thing to do,” Baze says when he’s hung up. “It’s lucky you managed to avoid getting shot.”

“I didn’t need luck,” Chirrut smiles, “I had you.” He pulls his cane out of his pocket and extends it, poking the body on the floor. “What’s lucky is that you didn’t kill him – we do need to interrogate him still.”

Baze rolls his eyes. “I know I’ve told you this before, but I’m an excellent –” He stops talking, because Chirrut’s hands are on his face and his lips are on his and they’re. They’re kissing.

Chirrut’s lips are soft and Baze kisses him back.

* * *

Later, when Cassian and Jyn have picked up their suspect and Baze and Chirrut are driving back to their respective apartments, Baze says, “You know, there were many different ways for you to convince me that you’re a detective – aside from pulling me into one of your cases.”

“Yes, I suppose there were,” Chirrut hums.

Baze turns to him briefly, eyes narrow. “Was this some elaborate plan to get me to save your life so you could get an opportunity to kiss me?”

Chirrut grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Baze rolls his eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Actually, I am completely corrigible,” Chirrut retorts, before bursting into laughter, and Baze can’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> whoops my hand slipped and i wrote all of this instead of working on my other fics in progress
> 
> Find me on tumblr at poeorgana!


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